In Sangria Veritas
by Rostand
Summary: Jude gets dumped again, Jonesy gets fired again, so the obvious solution is to have some sangria and watch Wyatt play the Green Room. The fun starts the next morning.


"She dumped me, dude."

Jonesy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck at the defeat in Jude's voice over the phone. "That sucks, dude. Let me take you out."

"Don't you have work?"

"Nah, got fired today. C'mon, Wyatt's playing a gig at one of those weird little beatnik joints he hangs around. We can go support him."

Another sigh. "Alright."

"Dundas West station, I'll meet you there."

"Catch y' later, bro."

Jonesy sighed as he hung up the phone. Jude had the worst luck with girls. It took him forever to find a girl willing to date him, and it always ended inside a month. The last one had been cheating on him. With two different guys. He wondered what it had been this time. After all, Jude was a nice guy. A little clueless sometimes and way too laidback for his own good, but a nice guy. Earnest, even. Whereas Jonesy, on the other hand, couldn't keep a girl because he was an asshole.

The six teens were pushing twenty now and didn't see much of each other. Jude, Jen, and Jonesy were at the University of Toronto for various reasons, Caitlin and Nikki had gone to York, and, to no one's surprise, Wyatt had attended OCAD and was happily writing, performing, and recording. No one had time for each other anymore except jude and Jonesy. It helped that they lived close, especially for a boy with a skateboard. It was still Jude's preferred mode of transportation, despite much good-natured (and not so good-natured, depending on the ex-girlfriend in question) ribbing on the subject.

He wasn't on his skateboard tonight when Jonesy met him outside the subway station. Jude's slouch was more pronounced than usual when he reached the street, and his eyes looked pouchy. He straightened his toque and lifted a hand in subdued greeting.

"Dude."

"Jude."

No more words were spoken between then until they reached the darkened joint with the twinkle-lights lighting and the winte-bottle candle holders. The sangria was already flowing. Wyatt was on the stage - a raised platform crammed between tables - warming up, and they made their greetings out of habit.

"Wyatt."

"Wyatt."

"Dudes." Pause. "Dudes?"

"Dumped." Pointing to Jude.

"Fired." Pointing to Jonesy.

"Ah. First round's on me. Tell Sandy."

"Thanks, bro."

They found seats at a cramped round table against the wall, with two mismatched chairs. Jonest took another look at Jude's face and ordered something considerably more alcoholic than sangria. He waited until it was half-gone before asking kindly, "Want to talk about it?"

Jude sighed, playing with his glass. "I didn't fit her image," he said, sounding more resigned than bitter. "She thought I was a nice guy, but it just wasn't going to work out."

Jonesy had stopped saying things like 'there's lots of fish in the sea' about three failed relationships ago. There may be lots of fish, but it seemed Jude was allergic to seafood. Or seafood was allergic to Jude. Jonesy had never been good with metaphors.

Can I get her number?" he joked after he took another sip. It sounded flat even to him, but still made Jude smile, chuckling a little into his drink.

"Sure, bro. Hey, maybe she's got a friend."

Jonesy laughed. "You're always looking out me."

Jude finished his drink and waved vaguely at the waitress for another. "What happened this time?"

"Some parent complained about me scaring her child."

"Dude, you worked at a stag shop."

"I know. Apparently there's very specific ways to advertise that, too."

"Got something lined up?"

"I'm thinking Malabar's."

"The costume place? Weren't you fired for sexual harassment?"

Jonesy shrugged. "they have a new manager. Old one was a bit of a bitch anyway." He rolled his eyes. "Women."

"I totally hear y', bro. Women suck."

Jonesy lifted his glass in a salute. "I can drink to that."

CLINK!

Jonesy woke up drymouthed and groggy, his head throbbing discreetly at him. He was tangle with another warm body, blond strands of hair tickling his nose. The presence in his bed was familiar and for the moment he didn't question it. It was comfortable and seemed to be helping with his handgover. Besides, Jonesy was never one to question a good naked snuggle. Well, mostly naked. He dimly registered boxers. But there was a whole lot of skin in the long lanky limbs and body tangled heavily with his.

He drifted off again, dozing with his face buried in the long blond hair that smelled faintly of patchouli. He woke again to nature's call and reluctantly untangled himself from his bedmate, sitting on the edge of the futon and flattening his bedhead with one hand as he covered a yawn with the other. He stretched, his shoulders popping back into place, before finally looking over at whatever beauty he had scored on his night out that he barely remembered after the fifth or sixth round of tequila.

Jonesy's jaw dropped and he leapt to his feet, his hands out in front of him as if to ward off danger, letting out a strangled cry of "Jude!"

The lanky and mostly-naked skater stirred, curling into the empty space that had recently held Jonesy. "G'way," he muttered indistinctly, still, for the most part, fast asleep.

"Dude - you - I -" Jonesy babbled, croaking hoarsely.

"Dude," Jude moaned, squeezing his eyes shut before slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes, yawning. He blinked sleepily at the gaping Jonesy for a almost a full minute before it finally registered and he let out a yelp, yanking the hseet up as he scrambled backwards. "Dude!"

"Dude!" Jonesy flailed in a way that indicated that he had nothing to do with this and was just as confused about the situation as Jude was.

"Dude," Jude wailed, feeling horribly taken advantage of.

Jonesy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Dude," he began in an apologetic sort of way, his hand outstretched, but he didn't know how to finish. He looked at Jude. Jude looked back. Jonesy began to remember large chunks of the previous evening, and he could tell by the way Jude's eyes widened and a blush crept up his neck that Jude was too. Jonesy moved snowly so he was kneeling on the edge of the futon that served as his bed. Jude watched him but didn't move, not even when Jonesy leaned purposefully forward.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Dude?" he squeaked.

Jonesy close the distance between them and kissed Jude. Quickly, just a little bit of pressure, no tongue. He pulled back. "Trying to figure something out," he said, his voice raspy.

"Uh huh." Jude nodded slowly, his eyes wide and startled. Abruptly, he leaned forward himself with another kiss, slightly longer. He drew back slowly and swallowed. "Did that help?" he asked meekly. "With the figuring out?"

"Yeah."

And they were kissing again, long, deep, open-mouthed kisses as hands tangled in hair and cupped faces. Jonesy pressed Jude back to the rumpled bed and Jude rose against him, his neck acrhing off the bed to meet his kisses. It felt . . . good. Good to be kissing Jude for Jonesy, good to be kissing Jonesy. It was like they had already gotten through all the relationship preliminaries of getting to know each other, adjusting kissing styles, trust. They were just kissing like it was the most natural things in the world. Jonesy kissed with finesse. Jude kissed with pure enthusiasm.

Their bare torsos pressed together and their legs tangled as they kissed, kicking the sheets off the bed. Jude ended up on top at the end, propping himself up on his elbows as he pulled back, panting for breath. Jonesy blinked up at him, wondering if Jude's hair had been quite that mussed when they had started.

"I got class," Jude said abruptly, rolling to his feet and wobbling a bit.

Jonesy rolled to his side, lifting himself up on one elbow as he watched Jude wriggle back into his shorts and yank his t-shirt back over his head head. "Okay."

"So, uh . . ." Jude paused at the door and ducked his head. "I'll see you?"

"Yeah. Later." Jonesy was still a little shell-shocked.

"Later." And Jude disappeared from the dorm room.

Jonesy was leaning against a huge stone planter outside the university building when Jude emerged, settling his backpack on his shoulders. Wordlessly he clattered down the stairs and joined him.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Walk?"

"Yeah."

They silently joined the midday flow of people walking side by side without touching or really looking at each other. Finally Jude looked up at the sky through the buildings, rubbed the back of his neck, and said, "Nothing happened."

Jonesy shook his head. "Nothing happened." They had both passed out around each other before things had gotten too far. "But . . . if something had . . ."

"Dude," Jude said plaintively, and Jonesy shut up. After another few minutes of walking, Jude offered, "I guess . . . it wouldn't have been too bad. I mean, like, you're my best friend, bro. I trust you."

"Yeah." Jonesy had never been trusted by any of the girls he dated.

More silence.

"So . . . is it over?" Jonesy asked finally.

"I dunno. Do - do we want it to be over?"

And yet more silence. They were well into the downtown Bohemian student district by now and passing kids sitting on the sidewalk with empty coffee cups and cardboard signs declaring families killed by ninjas and the need for kung fu lessons.

"Well, neither of us have girlfriends," Jonesy offered.

"And it isn't like we'll be doing anything different than we usual do. Except . . . the kissing."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"You . . . you're pretty good at it."

"Learned from the master."

Jonesy looked around and abruptly yanked Jude down the narrow, mural-painted alley beside the comic book shop. Jude's backpack made it hard to pin him against the wall, but after a startled moment he slipped it from his shoulders and dropped it, uncaring. Their lips met in an almost angry clash of emotion, and though Jude let himself be pinned, he didn't let Jonesy control the kiss. His hands fisted in Jonesy's shirt as he pressed against his narrow hips, his head lifting away from the paint-covered brick.

"Just for now," Jude whispered against his lips.

"Just until something better," Jonesy agreed.

They both knew nothing better would come along. But they'd worry about that later. 


End file.
